Even Just Once More
by OCfan11
Summary: Mipha holds Destruction.


Coming together is a slow process. As the wisps fade, a breath is taken. Mipha opens her eyes.

"Hello?"

Softly. Calmly. Curious. This is not a place she knows. There is water all around, and a sword in a stone. Not the Master Sword, not the Scimitar of the Seven. Mipha walks slowly, gaze lingering at the silver waterfalls tricking the eyes. It tries to make her comfortable, to remind her of home.

The last she remembers is Ganon's defeat. In her veins run the twisted power used to activate her Divine Beast. She and Ruta are bonded beyond death, and yet with every step an unknown goodbye warms fondly – sadly – in her heart.

"Is anyone there?"

The voices of the dead do not reply. Ruta does not speak. The water down the wall ripples, a move stemming from the weapon in the center. Mipha wraps her hands around the hilt, _feeling_ the life. Gasping at the heartbeat. With a firmness a ghost shouldn't have, she pulls.

It slides out with ease, smooth as a Zora climbing a waterfall. She has only moments to admire it before the sturdiness _twists_ under her palm. Mipha gasps again, dropping it and stepping away.

On the ground, silver flows like a river. The weapon is no longer a sword, but her trident. The Zora's Champion kneels down, only hesitating a moment. It is familiar in her hands, the water on the walls drying away as she cradles it close. There is a thrum in the weapon and a heartbeat in her ears. She runs a healing finger over the edges, whispering, "Hello."

The Lightscale Trident promises back.

Mipha stands. A fist over her chest, breathing in time with the heartbeat inside her body. The goodbyes are fading with each flutter, but are not so far gone she can't express, "Thank you, Ruta."

The wisps come again, but this time it is not from death. Trident in hand, Mipha is teleported out of the secret room. A last gift between Divine Beast and Champion.

;;;

_(Promise me that you will not hesitate to call upon my power if you ever find yourself in need.)_

;;;

It may be lucky, it may be unlucky, but Mipha forms on the surface. The trident slams into the ground as she falls to one knee. Unused to being solid, Mipha isn't fast enough to completely dodge the attack

The cut heals instantly. With the motion, she swings to her feet, weapon pointed. "Stay back."

The dark things with red eyes growl. This time, she catches it mid-lunge.

"Oh…" Mipha backs away from the particles. It is a monster, though she remembers them disappearing more smoke-like than this. There are several more in this place, so hot like the desert. She'll need to find water soon, but first to save the Hylians.

Lightscale thrums in her hands. The rare magic that makes her an instant-healer - that makes her stronger and faster than her brethren - itches beneath her skin for the first time since Ruta fell. Mipha _moves_. Swift. Precise.

Graceful.

These Hylians, with their weapons and strange metal throwers, do not seem effective against the inky creatures. Lightscale destroys the things in one hit, as though it cuts through air. It is a moment that lasts forever, a few minutes of battle. In this one, they are victorious.

Alive.

Mipha knows it is always the aftermath that yields the worst. Quick to make her way over to the sounds and smells of injured. The tall children flinch at the sight of her, but do not move away. She kneels. "I can heal you, if you wish."

"Please," the taller one grips the injured one tighter.

One by one, person by odd Hylian person, the living are left with no battle scars save the ones in their hearts. She cannot regret giving Link her Grace, but it shames her to see the young die. As a healer, there is no dwelling on _what if_. Only recognizing the mistake and moving forward learning from it.

Mipha offers a prayer for the last one when two men approach. They are tall like the Hylians have grown to be over the century, however one has animal ears in addition to his own. It is another odd thing of note, but she has been limited in seeing only the Hylians who come to the reservoir. These extra traits may be common amongst the race.

"Who are you?" demands the one without extra ears.

And Mipha, well, she smiles her best and introduces herself. Followed by, "I'm afraid I am quite lost. Would you be able to direct me towards Zora's Domain?"

Unluckily, or luckily, no one knows where that is. No one knows where Hyrule is, either. These un-pointed eared Hylians are known as humans; these animal-parts people are known as Faunus, and Mipha-

Well, she's still a Zora. The first one in all of Remnant.

;;;

_(It must have been his first time seeing healing magic, as he looked up at me with big, round eyes.)_

;;;

They ask her to stay. Those she heals, the students at Shade Academy, the children on the streets, and many, many others. Rumors say that Vacuo does not care how you look, only if you can keep up; if you are strong you survive. This place sounds much like Gerudo Desert: hot days, cold nights, little water, and the strong get only stronger. Urbosa would have liked it here, Daruk would have been the fiercest and friendliest giant, and Revali could have flown on the breezes for hours. The Rito may even have been a possible scholar for these fighting students. Many enjoy the art of archery.

Zora's however, carve a niche. A place where their magic saturates. Living together and never straying too far. Water is a necessity for the kind, and the longer she stays the more Mipha knows she is not ready to settle. The lack of Ruta pulling on her magic means the Divine Beast is not in this world, had used her own power to revive her at a cost. In her soul she is disturbed by the change; for the first time feeling the call to _search_. She does not know what is out there, nor what she wants, but Mipha promises to be back one day.

There is something about Shade Academy, but it is not time. Mipha and the very alive Lightscale get on a wagon in the cool morning, a ride for helping transportation and protection. She tells stories about her childhood, patiently answering questions – giggling with the travellers about why shirts are important in her culture – and missing those she has rarely glimpsed throughout the century. Her brother, grown so much. Her father, never leaving the palace.

Link… how he is forever out of reach. The love in her heart is a burning and a cold ache. Never seeing him again, thinking he was dead… those were the worst moments of her afterlife. Trapped in Ruta, fighting every day, knowing her loved ones counted on her and that the person she wished to give her heart to was gone…

The world-change is easy in comparison. She'll always miss and yearn, but Ruta did not give her a second chance to squander it.

A tipped point of Lightscale hits the ground as she gets up to stretch her legs. It severs an incision in the path, raw and wounded. After the initial shock, Mipha smiles and bends down, not quite scolding, "You should not do that. The world is not our enemy."

A glowing hand stitches it together, turning dust and aches back to dirt. Some grass begins to sprout before Mipha is satisfied. She stands with the help of her weapon, running her fingers through familiar grooves.

"I am not a fighter," she reminds it, the stories she's shared running deep. Moves to help the others with setting up camp for lunch. "We play the position of support, whatever it may be."

Destruction comes in many forms. Mipha wishes the people to live happily and well. The next time the tips contact the ground, mosses grow and seeds are planted. The beginnings of destroying a wasteland, though it still need fostering. Destruction is not always quick, not always noticeable. Not even to the young woman spreading it.

They reach the next town by nightfall, and the stares again stick on the young Zora woman.

Mipha holds her head up and continues, the Champion of her people. Lightscale is a comfort throughout the week, where they are to move on again. Before she goes, Mipha heals sick and wounded. She coaxes crops to thrive. Defeats monsters. Finds an untapped source of water and digs it to the surface.

In a week, she is loved. They want her to stay. This, however, does not feel like home. They will be fine now without her, and for her own sake Mipha must continue. There is not enough water or magic in the lands, the only safety over her skin comes from Lightscale's promise. The Zora moves on with her search.

Rinse and repeat. The weeks go by until one day the merchants she protects stop on the outskirts of a dead oasis. The empty trees echo of hollow life, the ground carved with signs of water long gone. This, of all things, hammers in how much this world is different from her Hyrule. Never was the land allowed to get this bad. The magic saturated the air and healed everything, even after it burned.

In the dying rays of the sun, Mipha walks onto water-stained sand. The empty bed isn't that big, and the water far below has been asleep for a long time. She cannot dig or call it out. Yet, she tries.

Lightscale's worries become rattles as it cries for her to stop.

"Not yet," Mipha whispers, hands glowing as she tries to pull life to the surface. The sand runs through her fingers, tauntingly. "Not yet."

It rattles and falls off her back. Mipha cries out at the blast, dropping and twisting to where the magic came from. There are faint traces of panic, of shock, on her expression as she focuses past the trauma of Calamity to see-

Lightscale. On the ground, in a bed of flowers. Things that can survive the heat and maybe one day pull the water to the surface, not native to Vacuo.

Mipha carefully picks up her weapon, neither apologizing. A glowing hand strengthens the flowers, giving them time to grow. She moves her head against the shaft, mummering out her thanks.

Lightscale shivers in her hands, resting and regaining its energy. Still never revealing.

Far below them, the water stirs.

;;;

_(Now, shall we try one more time?)_

;;;

A year into her travels, and Mipha has only covered a fraction of Vacuo. In her trails, the land starts heaving back to life. People begin to know of her. Of what she can do.

Lightscale stays a trident, though some days it does tell her its yearning to be a sword once more. She does not stop it, instead letting it choose its identity. It chooses every day to be an unassuming weapon. A comfort for her over its own normalcy. She is forever grateful.

More so in times such as these. "Please," Mipha utters, deceptively relaxed. Even with semblances and tricks these people have, she has sparred against Link. Against Urbosa, Daruk, and Revali. "If you leave, I will not have to harm you."

The travellers she protects are silent in their caravan. The children are looking out behind her. They are surrounded by the bandits, and only the civilian adults sweat coldly.

"Girlie," drawls the largest of men, of the bandits. The difference between how the worlds treat their threats is a minor startle every time Mipha encounters them. The Yiga – thin and stealthy or filled out and imposing – are what she is used to. Masked, faceless shadows. Never these scarred or rough-looking individuals. The monsters, though, are treated the same, "Or whatever you are, you look a stiff breeze away from falling over. Put down your weapon, and we won't hurt _you_."

Lightscale buzzes in her hand. Mipha breathes evenly, slowly spreading her hands apart. The living weapon wants for blood split, for lives to end. If it were a sword, she could not avoid that.

Thankfully, it is not. The shaft twists in nimble fingers, knocking back the closest bandit. Catch a weapon, block another. The knife disintegrates against the points, same with her next opponent's weapon. The bandits start moving for the caravan, and she throws the trident towards the back.

Her hands will never be the strongest weapon, but all Zora's are gifted with claws. An axe comes for her head, and Mipha shifts to dodge. Fingernails latch onto the wrist, and she _digs_ into the aura, twisting and pushing all the correct point. The axe drops, and over her shoulder the bandit goes. She is gone before they completely slam into the ground, going for her weapon that's burning a man's hand wrapped around its shaft.

Mipha shoves him aside in one graceful movement, the trident out of the ground to be thrown through the caravan. The driver ducks.

It clangs into weapons of the people moving for the horses. The bandits scatter to regain their bearings.

Mipha walks calmly to the front, picking up her trident mere feet away from the largest person there. She looks up at him with lidded eyes and pursed lips. "May we continue onwards?"

She strokes Lightscale, fending off the urge to carve a path.

"What _are_ you?" the man is curious, _angry_, but a better leader than to yell at his people.

"My name is Mipha," a smile, "and yourself?"

_A dead man_, Lightscale hisses.

"Cream," he replies, holding himself a little taller. "What say you we do this one-on-one, Mipha? You win, you and the rest go free. I win, we take everything."

"That seems unfair," she hums, the protests coming from all around. "Either we lose everything, or we win passage. No, I am afraid I cannot take the deal. It is my job to protect everything as we go, and I shall not barter that which is not mine."

In the next second, Mipha stabs the ground. The bandits trying to attack fall into holes that are quickly filling with water. She hums, grateful. The still-standing bandits hurry to their comrades. Mipha motions the driver to urge the horse forward.

"Take care, sir," she tells the leader, who stares a bit frightened off to the side. "I do hope you all find something more legal to focus on."

Lightscale nearly purrs as it returns to her back. Every battle, a little bit more of itself comes to the surface. Mipha wonders if one day it will be ready to tell her who it is, but she'll trust it to reveal on its own terms.

It is still hers, and she it still its.

A promise, and a partner.

;;;

(_May I ask who the other chosen Champions are?_)

;;;

Mipha doesn't so much as find water in the desert as it simmers alive under the dirt, dust, and sand. A pool, a _spring_. Glowing white hands hover over the ground, and then plunge in.

Minutes late, a river begins flowing. A serenade of water that promises not to stop. Mipha breaks to the surface, using fins and gills properly for the first time in ages. "I missed this," she tells the weapon that swells the water. She breathes deeply, calmly, and dives back under. Far below, the sand and dust and dirt whirls like cyclones while steam geysers erupt. On the surface is cold, chilled to the Zora's liking. Freshwater, not salt.

The water rises through dry lands, and on the shores people gather. For the first time comes the whisper of _Goddess_.

It doesn't help that Zoras age the slowest of Hyrule's citizens. Mipha does not look a day older than her first step in Remnant. By the standards of her race, the Zora princess if a _young_ woman. The cruel reality of this world, she will watch them grow old like the Hylians.

The title _Goddess_ has not yet become common by the time Mipha and Lightscale reach a village near a budding pond. Here, she spots six children playing and laughing, each with a familiar spark. Here, she stays longer than a week.

Lightscale is tamed by the incarceration and eventual destruction of those who aim to hurt the Zora. A week goes by, then two. Life is growing around the pond and Mipha has swam through the river more than necessary. The trident does not buzz with the urge to kill while she plays through the water. It does not bother her when she assists the farmers and builders, or when she heals the sick and injured.

At night it looks into the eyes of those who tried to kill her, who tried to kidnap or use Mipha for their own gain. Destruction looks into their souls and leaves them husks against their desires.

The people who go against Mipha end up weeping and apologizing at her feet. The rumors of her divine powers travel with merchants and traders, with builders and artisans, with _hunters and huntresses_.

A month passes, the longest she's ever stayed, and Mipha knows she must continue. There is still something calling out to her, saying that this isn't home. Her territory is not yet formed. _Stand strong_.

But before she goes, Mipha kneels in front of the six children of the village. The ones she's spoiled and will miss her most. Three Faunus, three humans. She gifts them each with something they wish for.

To the human with hair of blonde silk, a tool set.

To the feathered-haired Faunus, a book on the stars.

The human with hair like fire is gifted practice daggers.

The armadillo-back Faunus receives weights he can adjust.

The lone male human takes the fishing rod with a happy exclamation.

The only female Faunus accepts the jeweled necklace with wide eyes. She also is given whispered advice, "Do not wait too long."

Mipha and the girl look over to the group. The girl meets her eyes and nods seriously, finally running off to play with them once more.

The ex-princess smiles her slight, lovely grin. Walks away from the people who have come to accept her and catches her ride to the next town. It never rains where she goes, but the moisture is slowly coming back into the dry air. No one but the more aquatic sense it, and only the Zora realizes what it means. She hums a tune as the wagon rolls onward.

_Do not wait too long._

On her bed that night is a sword. In the morning it will be the Lightscale Trident again, but for now Mipha extends a hand and fond smile, "Hello."

;;;

_(I would love to see it.)_

;;;

In a century, a child Zora can become a young adult.

A century does not pass, but dozens of years do. People remember how the Zora lady helped them, and many would fight tooth and nail if it meant keeping her safe. Some remember how she raised the water and would swear she is the blessing of Remnant. Everyone knows she has not lost a fight, and only the truly cocky ever attempt to challenge her. 'Attempt', as one meeting with the soft-spoken young lady leaves them uncertain to ever follow-through.

Mipha has not yet completed her trek around Vacuo – only once tried to leave for Vale, but Lightscale threw a fit – when Vacuo decides she must finish. Moisture is in the air once more, the plant life growing better than it has in a long time. Certain places experience rainfall, cooling yet not freezing temperatures. In a couple decades, wastelands could be swallowed by fast-spreading fauna. With Lightscale resting on her lap, Mipha drinks her water on the stone table of a park bench, across from two people who have grown up so much.

She, though, has barely aged. Two feet more in height and slightly fearful that may be all the growing she does.

"Please," begs Melody the snake Faunus, one hand clutching at the necklace that's helped her through hard times. The other clutching her boyfriend's hand.

"I know it's a lot to ask," Coil grips her back, other hand resting on his own water bottle. There's an extendable fishing rod in his backpack and a sword on his hip. The sword is also a gun. "You have no stakes in this. It's no reason to risk yourself and to throw into question all you've done. There will be change in Vacuo, though. And you're the only person we think could spearhead it."

Mipha looks into the water, into the reflection that stares back. Lightscale hums to her that they don't need to do this, they'll be fine elsewhere. In the end, it's always the Zora's choice. No one can force her to do anything, not with such a weapon in her hands.

But destruction comes in all forms, and self-destruction can be the worst of all. Her clawed fingers fold together around the cup, a princess and Champion staring back. This was a long time coming, and it was always about the people before herself. As a healer. As a princess. As Ruta's Champion.

"If you truly think I am the best choice for this," Mipha looks up, determined, "then I will support your cause however I am able. I am not a fighter, nor a natural leader."

"We know," Melody giggles, relaxing her grip. "You are for the people, and there's no one else I would rather have in charge."

With all eyes on the Vytal Tournament half a world away, Vacuo's liberation is a silent affaire. To the kingdom, though, it is a loud and bloody few months.

Mipha is there to patch the wounds and heal the spirit. She entertains the kids and injured with stories of her home and legends she's gathered from her travels. In the eyes of the people, she is their Goddess and Savour all rolled into one. When the Grimm surge, she is the one to strike them down with a single blow. When the newspapers print their stories, any picture with her has the highly recognizable Zora tending to others.

Lightscale sings in the heart of it all.

When it is said and done, she stands at the entrance to Shade Academy, looking up at her first monument to glimpse in this strange world. Mipha breathes for a moment, knowing it is always the aftermath that yields the worst. The rebuilding, the new scars. The dust in Vacuo is finally beginning to settle, the air no longer dry all hours of the day. Breathe in. Breathe out.

"You could have it, you know?"

Mipha turns, grip loose and cradling as Lightscale helps her stand.

Melody smiles, scratching at her molting scales. It's nature, nothing that can be healed. Mipha eases the discomfort with glowing hands, her friend sighing in thanks, "Whatever you asked, you could have. You won us this war."

"I did nothing special," Mipha shakes her head, turning back to the empty school. Many of the students and faculty are away at the festival, and the rest… _stopped_ when they saw her. She doesn't understand. Recognizes many but cannot comprehend why some even dropped their weapons and assisted the injured with her. "This was the result of your group's planning, of all the efforts of our warriors. This was Vacuo's doing, not mine."

Melody puts a very humanizing hand on her shoulder, "You _are_ Vacuo, Mipha. You're one of us."

It's then the Zora notices the silence. Her hands tighten ever so slightly on the shaft, head moving to glance at the courtyard. Everyone is staring. At her. Not the doubletakes, not the confusion or disgust. Mipha feels their gazes and stands a bit straighter, for they are not her people-

A young girl breaks away, running up. She stops short of Mipha, pink hair swaying as she holds out a flower.

Mipha kneels to her height and gently takes the item. Gently cups the girl's smiling face, "Thank you for the gift."

"Stay with us, Ms. Mipha?" the girl asks.

-and while they are not her people, she will always be a princess at heart. This is her kingdom now. Princess Mipha cradles the gift, closes her eyes. She smiles her slight and ever real smile, meeting the girl's innocent gaze, "I will stay."

There are cheers from the crowd, the silence breaking into joy. Relief. Mipha breathes easy with the sound. Melody plucks the flower and threads it through the Zora's head ornament. "You could have the school if you wanted."

"I would be better suited for a hospital, or healing hut," Mipha knows her role. "I could never train fighters, for I am not much of one myself."

Melody snorts and shakes her head, leaving Mipha to the last few precious moments before cleanup begins. Her parting words leave much thought, "Well, isn't it a great thing that Headmasters aren't required to teach?"

Mipha thinks about it, Lightscale basks in the destruction of tyranny, but neither ever act on it. The closest comes from the few spear and trident uses asking for tips from the young Zora woman. At least these techniques she can share, since none of the people she's met have ever developed enough magic to heal others. She spars with a few newer students, much to her weapon's delight. On the rare days she is carrying a sword, a few students offer lessons to her.

The politics continue to ramp up and smooth out, the last hurdle coming a month later with the arrival of the Vytal Festival's attendees. A good fight is put up, but it's a few dozen against a Kingdom. The old headmaster of Shade is charged with a list of crimes they found soon after raiding the school. Crazy words about a woman controlling Grimm sprout as he's hauled away. No one is afraid of his ramblings, no one thinks too much on it. Lightscale rears up once, and Mipha spends the day calming it down by tearing through the inky dust creatures.

They return to find out she's been voted up as the new Headmaster. Headmaster – or Headmistress – Mipha, as the students waste no time calling her. It is a great honor, and yet she has never felt more unprepared.

;;;

_(But now you're here.)_

;;;

Mipha has no idea of Vale's relentlessness to obtain contact with Shade Academy's Headmaster – nor does she know of the betting pool starting about her romantic life (the ones who see her without a weapon, talking to a mysterious stranger are quick to lay down lien) – but she does know her introduction as the leader of a _Remnant's Champions_ school must start with introducing her to the powerhouses. Oh, sure, the only interview Mipha's ever done is circulating the CCT's video website at a rapid pace, but many think it a hoax. The world beyond Vacuo knows nothing of Zoras, some places even going so far to ban it because of supposed nudity.

She may not wear a shirt, but Mipha covers up. Her traditions are important, will not be stamped out. That does not mean she cannot bend a little. It does not mean she cannot learn. Mipha's learned how to read their language, how to operate their broad network called CCT. Those in Atlas cover up because of the cold. Mistral, to not draw attention. Vale has always been flashy, and Vacuo has always been too hot for layers in the day.

With ornaments and her Champion scarf, Mipha has always blended in here. Her people support her now, moderating the comments so she cannot see how the world does not believe in her. The Zora learns to deal with the mountains of paperwork, while also connecting with her new students. So many are taller than her, and yet so much younger. If they want to be the Champions of this world, then she'll do her best to make sure there is no Calamity they cannot win against.

Lightscale out of view of the camera, Mipha straightens in her chair. Shoulders back, chest out. Head high.

"You don't need to look so stiff," Coil laughs, pressing the buttons to send the video request. Her second-in-command of this school takes the spot on her right. "Relax a bit. It's just a meet and greet."

Mipha lowers her shoulders slightly. A princess born and raised, she will not present a less than confident picture for her people. Small and mighty. Do not underestimate her.

The Headmaster of Atlas picks up the call and promptly spits out, "What are you?!"

Mipha does not flinch. Remembers the practice. "Good evening, sir. My name is Mipha, and I am the newest headmaster at Shade Academy. As was in the email sent to you, I am here to discuss the procedures and accommodations needed for when the Amity Colosseum arrives in two years."

The man recovers. Admits to not having believed the news. Continues their discussion like nothing is wrong.

One down. Forever to go.

And Mipha continues on, oblivious to the storm pulling around her. She has no knowledge of the desperate calls between Academy teachers in-the-know with a reincarnating being. Mipha is busy running a school, making sure her students are pillars of support in a fragile kingdom. Politics continues around her, and beyond are Vacuo's once desert lands now growing healthy and strong crops. The rivers and ponds now have fish, amongst other aquatic life. It is not lush, but it could be. The destruction of a wasteland starts small, with the mightiest surviving.

The power of Shade Academy's new Headmaster should not be underestimated. To the people, she is the goddess bringing better times. The citizens of Vacuo begin to _live_ instead of merely surviving. Her every choice and every word impact like a wave throughout the kingdom, the princess training unknowingly building her up in their eyes. Mipha focuses her attention on the school first, but Shade was always more than a place designed to train warriors.

(A young boy with a scorpion tail sees the good work firsthand and chooses _her_.)

As the first year of a for-the-people Vacuo ends, so come the rumors of lightening storms being more common in Mistral. There are weather reports of stronger winds in Vale. Mines are reopening in Atlas. And, of course, water falls from the sky over Shade Academy for the first time in ages. Mipha takes a moment to let it pour down her face, Lightscale cackling at her back.

For the first time since regaining a body, she cries. The world cries its wistful hope with her.

Officially, Mipha does not have social media. She is too busy for that most days, and anyone who needs or wants to chat sends her a message via scroll or electronic mail. This is how she stays in touch with so many villages and settlements, with all those who wished she would stay. In the CCT network, there is only an interview and three photos of her for the world to see. Likewise, she only sees the scant few photos of people she knows if they send them to her.

The contestants and chaperones from Vale arrive first for the Vytal Festival. As much as Mipha would have liked to support their travel, there is not enough funds in her kingdom to sponsor others besides their stay in the dorms. She greets every single one, shaking their hands and welcoming them.

A teacher with hair as solidly white as the Sheikah, and a feel about him to match, shakes her hand. Lightscale thunders against her back.

"Hello, Headmaster," he greets. "My name is Ozpin."

She does not know whether the anger from her weapon is directed at this man, or at what he could do. Mipha is the picture of friendly and she lets go. "Please, call me Mipha, professor."

He laughs, "Then call me Ozpin."

Her heart pounds a bit harder at such a charming smile. Something she has not felt for a long time rises to the surface. _It is unfair_, she thinks, _how the passing of time for humans and Faunus is much like Hylians_.

Unfair, that she cannot risk attractiveness to a smile turning into love once again. Not even as Ozpin appears to seek her out over the days, and his personality endears her to him. Lightscale does not like the man, and once the festival is over they will likely have no contact.

"Do you remember what you told me?" Melody prompts after Mipha's talked about her week. "When you were leaving? You told me, 'Do not wait too long'."

"It is not love," Mipha shakes her head, "not like how I could see you loved your friends. I did not know which one you trusted with your heart. I have only met this man, and we live in very different worlds."

"Long distance can work," Melody shrugs. "Just think on it."

In the months following, the other kingdoms gather and, finally, the tournament commences. Vacuo does not win, but they are not soundly defeated like the previous years. Mipha gets to know and exchange words with every person who comes to stay under her school's roof. By the end of the Vytal Festival, not one person boarding at Shade Academy underestimates the power Vacuo is slowly amassing. At the head of their program, a young Faunus-like woman kinder than many will ever meet. Mipha, the hero of the people.

Vacuo's Champion.

;;;

_(You know… Perhaps we could spend some time together.)_

;;;

The entire tournament, Lightscale refuses to change from the trident form. No amount of worry gets the answer as to why. It keeps this form even as the representatives and chaperones begin the long journeys back to their respective kingdoms. A week before the last of Vale returns, Ozpin meets Mipha in her office.

Lightscale feels as though it tries to stick to her skin through metal alone. She has it resting across her lap, pouring tea for her guest. Ozpin thanks her and they discuss the training he's seen in Vacuo.

"Most never even think to add first aid as class, never mind make it mandatory," he praises.

Mipha is too well trained to duck her head, though the nerves she feels at his earnest face do not help. "My, erm, semblance is healing. This is why I understand how important physical and mental care is. I can offer the classes, but it is only through their effort that my students are learning to balance between the two."

His eyes are drawn into his cup. "Well said." A smile back up at her. "Would you recommend any practices to pass along to Vale?"

"I can send you our basic outline," Mipha tilts her head ever so slightly at the monitor on the other side of the room. "Everyone has something different that works for them. I leave it to my professors to assist their students in finding methods they can continue with."

"That sounds… very special," Ozpin finally decides. "As every fighting style has their own foundations, it is up to the warrior to find the techniques that work for themselves. If that makes sense."

Mipha giggles. "I understand."

Ozpin's smile brightens, only to drop. His fists clench around his cup, eyes staring back into the dark liquid. Whatever decision he is hesitating on, there is the steel in his eyes of a person making a difficult choice. "What is your favourite fairy-tale?"

"You mean… make-believe stories from my childhood?"

"…Yes."

Mipha smiles sadly, raising her cup. "You would not know them."

That startles him, "Oh?"

"Where I come from, we have magic," she explains, not for the first time. The people of Vacuo know the story of how a Zora died protecting her kingdom and woke up in theirs. "Zora's like myself are one of many races. Gorons, for example, had bodies as hard as stone. The Rito-"

"-could fly with their winged arms," Ozpin whispers.

"Yes," Mipha nods. Innocent and curious. "How did you know?"

Ozpin takes a moment to breathe before taking out his scroll. "A moment, please."

Minutes later, displays a video of a familiar Rito showing off for some Vale children.

"Mipha." She forces her cold, hopeful shock away from the video. Ozpin looks like a different person with how serious he is. "Have you ever heard of Salem?"

The Zora's Champion shakes her head, stroking the grooves in the metal of a weapon that only she can hear hiss and growl. She should have known it would be too good to be true. Her fellow Champion is alive as well, but the good news was always to be followed by the bad.

Throughout it all, Mipha does not breathe a word about Destruction. Not after everything it's done for her.

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda or RWBY franchises. All rights belong to their respective owners.**

**A/N: Thank you for reading! **

**I hope everyone has a fantastic day**


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